


the ideal gas law

by nisakomi



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Multi, but also not angst???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5822671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nisakomi/pseuds/nisakomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kwon Soonyoung's always known what he wanted. Except when he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the ideal gas law

Jihoon tells him it’s silly.

Of course Jihoon tells him silly, but it’s not like Soonyoung doesn’t already know that.

“Do you even live in the same city anymore?” He picks at the skin around a fingernail with disinterest. “Even if you did, I bet she’s changed a lot. I mean, you’ve changed a lot even in the time I’ve known you.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Also, your memories of her are probably skewed because everyone puts their first loves on a pedestal and the mismatch between reality and expectations would probably cause a rift. I can keep going, do you want more reasons why your idea is totally unrealistic?” Jihoon finally looks up to see Soonyoung with his arms wrapped around his knees, eyes focused on the crack between two floorboards.

Soonyoung doesn’t need any more detail to chip away at the fantasy future he’s always wanted for himself. His pipedream of getting married to his childhood sweetheart and having at least seven children, living in a pretty house, and growing old together is a pipedream because he never had a first love.

Unless you counted that girl who asked him to marry her in kindergarten, but Soonyoung doesn’t even remember her name.

And if that means that what he’s always wanted is something he can never have, that’s just what it means.

So it goes. 

*

“You can basically just change your ideal type every time. Name all the different types. You just want the fans to be happy right? Short hair or long hair, older or younger, sexy or cute.” Seungcheol’s coaching them on how to answer the question, like they haven’t been prepared for it for years.

“Girl or boy?” Someone jokes, because of all the binaries that have been suggested.

Seungcheol pauses, doesn’t laugh, but doesn’t have an answer.

“Not a good joke. There’s nothing wrong with being gay. The gender of the person you like shouldn’t matter,” Hansol says frankly. He’s still a fourteen-year-old in Soonyoung’s head, but he walks them through the spectrum of sexuality.

“Gender shouldn’t be so dualistic either,” Jeonghan says, his grin radiant. “That’s also a spectrum.” His smile turns wry. “Although, maybe all of this also belongs in the category of things to lie about when asked.”

Soonyoung would prefer being honest. Soonyoung wants to tell the truth all the goddamn time, with his words, and with his actions, with his body and with his dancing.

So he considers having an ideal type, for a moment. Would they have short or long hair? When would they have been born? Where did his ideal type fit on the gender spectrum? No face comes to mind immediately, and no specific attributes.

All he knows is that he wants someone who liked him more than anyone or anything else in the world, but also challenged him and didn’t always agree. Someone who had the same dreams as him. Someone who was kind. Someone who was thoughtful and considerate and warm. Someone who was honest. Soonyoung liked being liked, but he hated fake praise. Someone who was as honest as Soonyoung himself was about everything.

Someone that wasn’t like anyone he knew, apparently.

Soonyoung wants to tell the truth all the goddamn time, but he’s also very good at telling little white lies. He’s the best at making up fibs when it comes to lying to himself.

“I hate the concept of ideal types,” Wonwoo mutters, quiet and bored while Seungkwan and Mingyu scream out preposterous made up types of people. Taller than Mingyu? By a head? Good luck finding your desired soulmate, kid.

“Why?” Junhui asks, genuinely confused. He’s sitting beside Minghao, shivering from having given him his sweater since Minghao was cold and sleepy. Minghao, like the others, wasn’t paying attention to their tiny bubble of calmness.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to turn his head toward him because he’s already looking that way, expression earnest. “It suggests the possibility of love at first sight and there’s no myth I believe less than that one.”

Junhui tilts his head, asking him to go on.

“Love is so much more than first impressions, whether by the way someone looks or their personality. Love involves times where conditions are less than ideal. Love is working together and holding on and respect and honesty and trust. It’s more of a declaration of will than just simply emotion.”

Sometimes Wonwoo says shit like that, like he’s got the entire world figured out. Or just that he’s spent more time reflecting on his life experiences instead of running around piggy backing a screaming Seokmin around the block or flicking grains of rice into Jihoon’s hair while he’s caught up in his music.

Wonwoo the all-knowing.

Wonwoo the one who sees everything.

“Oh,” Junhui says. He sits back, sniffling. That fucker better not catch a cold from being too nice to Minghao. “I thought ideal types were like your ideal type _right now_. You know, the person you think of and suddenly start hearing wedding bells and seeing rose petals.” His voice gets a little nasally after that. “Like, someone who looks handsome to you no matter what they’re wearing or what they’re doing, even if they’re being crazy or stupid.” There’s a flash in his eyes, and he catches Soonyoung’s gaze for a second, before he blinks and the look is gone.

“I think you’re thinking of a crush, or even just ‘the person you like’,” Soonyoung suggests with some effort. There’s a hand squeezing around his heart.

“Am I?” Junhui nods readily and smiles at Soonyoung with all his teeth exposed. “Thanks for clearing up my misunderstanding, Soonyoung, you’re the best.” He looks so happy and grateful that it doesn’t even come off as sarcastic or an exaggeration. Soonyoung ducks his head, suddenly shy. His cheeks are flushing red too, damn.

Wonwoo snorts, wets his lips, and there are fucking hearts in his eyes, Soonyoung can fucking see them and he can't see jackshit without squinting half the time. “If that was all ideal types were, even I’d be able to say I had one.”

“What’s your ideal type, Wonwoo-goon? Or I guess, who?” Soonyoung says, clearing his throat like it’ll clear the tightness in his chest, and hoping his words be loud enough to mask his thundering heartbeat.

“Someone I can’t have,” Wonwoo says after a beat. His eyes are glazed over, fingers dangling limply off his knees. Oddly enough, he doesn’t look sad at all.

Before Soonyoung can ask why he looks so happy about such a miserable thing, Jihoon butts in, bored of laughing the same hyena cackle at Mingyu fifty times. “Why the fuck are you so red? Are you shaking, too?” He asks, prodding Soonyoung’s forehead.

Wonwoo looks at him, his smile suddenly turned into a frown, and Soonyoung slips his gaze away.

His eyes land on Junhui, whose expression of concern makes Soonyoung wonder if he’s about to rip off his shirt and offer that to Soonyoung to prevent him from being cold.

That’s not quite right.

Junhui looks like he’s about to rip his heart right out of his chest and offer it to him on a silver platter. Did Wonwoo see that too? Does he see? Of course he sees.

Soonyoung wants to tell Wonwoo he knows what it’s like, to have the thing you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember be the one thing you can’t have. But, right now, it seems like that’s no longer true for him, and Soonyoung’s already said enough shit, hasn’t he? Soonyoung’s a liar, but he’s not fucking _cruel_. 

*

“Your choreography is genuinely amazing, Channie,” Soonyoung says. Junhui is wrapped like a koala around his left arm. It’s nice, he’s warm, and just the right softness, and everything about their positions is so uncomfortable that Soonyoung almost doesn’t continue. “I don’t think you should worry about what others have to say and just keep working hard on it.”

Chan’s normally pretty self-assured, if not super confident, because he’s focused, and driven, he knows he has the genes and the talent for it, and he works hard practicing 24/7. It must have been someone else’s comment that triggered this sudden bout of self doubt, but Chan’s not irrational, and he takes the truth from Soonyoung’s words as he should.

Junhui spares an arm, untangling himself from Soonyoung and leaving him cold and flustered. He runs the hand through Chan’s hair with so much affection it’s like he’s showering adoration on his own son.

Soonyoung tells him as much, as soon as Chan’s gone to find Minghao in order to take a break and grab a drink of water.

“It’s good practice,” Junhui tells him solemnly, “for when I have children of my own.” He’s back at Soonyoung’s side, leg wrapped around his hips now too. “You’d make a great father you know, the things you say to him when he’s down always seem to be exactly what he needs to hear.”

Soonyoung doesn’t even bother hiding the satisfied smile spreading across his face.

“Do you want kids?” Junhui asks, mouth right beside Soonyoung’s ear.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung says. “I want to get married and have seven children and live in a pretty house.” Soonyoung’s always known what he wanted.

*

It was always Seokmin that Soonyoung thought he’d be interested in when faced with the question, “If you were a girl, which member of the band would you date?”

But Soonyoung’s not a girl. Soonyoung’s Soonyoung, and Seokmin’s not the only person who looks at Soonyoung like he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to them. Seokmin follows him like a lost puppy sometimes, like a younger sibling all the other times.

In their family it works like this: _99 line_. Chan is his son. _98 line_. Seungkwan and Hansol are the nieces-and-nephews, simultaneously. _97 line_. Seokmin is his little brother. Mingyu is their human version of an overgrown puppy, and Minghao is dog’s best friend. _95 line_. Jeonghan and Jisoo are the aunts-and-uncles, as one entity. Seungcheol is the elderly man who adopted all of them. _96 line_. Jihoon is Soonyoung’s best friend, even if he’s not his nicest friend.

 _96 line_. Wonwoo is his nicest, nicest, nicest friend, even if he’s the one who looks the coldest.

_96 line_. And Junhui…

*

“What’s your ideal type?” He asks to the mirror.

*

“Who’s your nicest friend?” He asks to his cold-ass heart.

* 

“Look at me,” Soonyoung says to Wonwoo.

If Wonwoo’s got the entire world figured out just from his brief bursts of late night music enjoyment and introspection, he’d probably see straight through Soonyoung if he let him look long enough.

“What do you see?”

“What the fuck are you on, and where can I get some of it?” Wonwoo says, after spitting and rinsing. He puts down his toothbrush and dries his hands on a towel.

“Tell me what I already know,” Soonyoung instructs.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “That you’re crazy?” He shrugs and shuts the door to the bathroom because he really has got the entire world figured out, the fucking bastard.

“Who’s your ideal type, Wonwoo-goon?”

“Someone who pays attention to the little things, who does it naturally, without having to think twice. Someone who isn’t selective about who they like and doesn’t treat the world like it’s a karmic game, who’s nice to everyone regardless of how they’re treated. Someone who’s so honest they don’t know how to lie even though they’re supposed to be good at acting.” His eyes stare into Soonyoung’s soul, but it’s not judgement day, not yet. The world's only just ended this second, after all. “I don’t believe in love at first sight, Soonyoungie, but I do believe in love.”

“Okay.” He swallows and nods. “Who’s my ideal type?”

“The difference between us,” Wonwoo says, gesturing quickly, “is that your ideal type is someone who loves you back unconditionally, and mine is someone I can’t have.”

Soonyoung steps back, legs shaky. “What do you see when you look at _him_?”

Wonwoo smiles. His eyes are glazed over, fingers hanging limply at his sides. Oddly enough, he doesn’t look sad _at fucking all_. “Someone who loves you.”

*

“Who’s your ideal type?” He asks.

Junhui looks taken aback. “Wait, aren’t we not supposed to have those? Wonwoo said…And Seungcheol-hyung said…” He frowns, looking lost.

Soonyoung takes a step forward, legs shaky. “Never mind. I won’t ask you who your ideal type is. What if I told you my ideal type?”

“Who’s your ideal type?” Junhui asks, voice small and looking way too vulnerable for his own good. He bites his lip and Soonyoung has to bite back a groan.

“It’s you. What would you do if I told you that it’s you?”

Unbelievably, Junhui’s voice gets even softer. “Tell you let’s get married. Let’s have seven children. Let’s grow old together in a pretty house.”

Soonyoung kisses him. Soonyoung kisses without any finesse because it's his first kiss and Junhui's his first love. Soonyoung kisses Junhui and Junhui's hands lift up around Soonyoung's jaw, holding him there. Soonyoung kisses Junhui until their lips are slick and red and swollen, until his heart is racing, his toes curled, and he feels like he's flying. Soonyoung kisses him and kisses him and kisses him. 

Junhui kisses back and if that means he thinks Soonyoung looks handsome to him no matter what he’s wearing or what he’s doing, even if he’s being crazy or stupid, then Soonyoung is the luckiest and happiest person in the world.

And if that means that what he’s always wanted is something he gets...

And if that means he gets something he shouldn’t be allowed to have.

And if that means…well, that’s just what it means.

So it goes.


End file.
